


A Quick Sick Rampage

by honeymink



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: F/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeymink/pseuds/honeymink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quick Sick Rampage

It was alarming honestly. The sky was pale, and a remote hint of darkness crept along from afar. No shed to hide in anymore. Needy daydreams torn down by one look up a window a couple of hours ago. Now, however, comfortably numb from spliff and pills, he sprawled out on his bed forcing her to either cuddle or climb on top. Freddie rolled another joint. 

“Pass it over, I take a hit,” she demanded and he grinned in a daze.

Vertigo was the sensation of spinning while stationary. _Definitions, definitions._ Perhaps he would pass his bloody A-levels after all. She wore tiny pink knickers with ruby ruffles. Thoughts skating up and down a half-pipe ramp like he would on his board. 

“I don’t know, Karen. You’re juicing down tonight and make me moan?” he fumbled with the lighter, hummed the silly melody and wiggled his hips.

Blurry images of her suggestive performance, red dress and lipstick danced before his eyes. His sister, his little harlot, starlet. Perhaps he was more fucking twisted than he cared to admit. _Honestly. Alarming. Shame on him._ Tempting, he dangled the joint in front of her face, withdrew it whenever she tried to grab it.

“Perhaps if you begged all minxy, foxy, sexy,” he mocked, a little mean, a little bitter. “Love me. Love me. Love me! Like you did with Cook.”

Hurt, angry, he couldn’t forget about the window where they had towered over him.

“You pathetic little tosser, you bloody wanker!” She shot up and straddled him, slapped his face, beat his chest. “You’re so fucked up that you tell everyone to keep away but stay close. Except for _her_ of all people! How is that any better?”

With languid features he watched her rage. Comprehension, pain even, came time delayed. Finally he grabbed her arms, held her still. Her verbal assault wasn’t finished though, indeed worked up to a climax.

“Not even that crazy bitch you’re so dead keen on loves you like I do. But I’m such a fucking cliché and like all the wrong things, eh? If I let you change me, will you love me then?”

“Bloody hell Karen, I already do,” he shouted honestly confused and stared at her wide-eyed. “I don’t mind what you like. Mojitos, hair straighteners, Kylie, ponies, whatever… ”

At last his grip loosened a bit. Her eyes still puffy from all of today’s crying, she completed wearily with a half smile, “Milk and heavy petting.”

Freddie groaned rolling his eyes to the back of his head. She shouldn’t have said that. The joint had burnt down, they needed more pills. Reaching over, he took two from a small silver box on his nightstand. They were blue. Willingly she let him put one on her tongue, then he swallowed the other himself. 

She shouldn’t have said that. Was it the yelling? A sudden rush of chemicals? He was hard, she was wet. He could feel it and imagined her small knickers an even darker shade of pink now.

“Clock is ticking, stick your dick in! That’s what that dull bimbo Jemma won with, eh?” Freddie grinned foolishly, falling back into a warm dizziness.

Karen pursed her lips in disdain, “Yeah and now her life is sweet like cinnamon, like the fucking dream she’s living in. That stupid fat cow! And they’ll play that shit on the radio.”

Rubbing her arms to make her loosen up, feeding her another pill without resistance, washing it down with Gin, she finally caught up with him. Mellow, floating, uninhibited.

“So heavy petting?” he smirked, a bit dreamy, a bit drowsy. 

Her hand in his boxer shorts, his hand pulling aside the moist fabric of her tiny tiny knickers. Curious, unreal sensations in the darkness. It was alarming honestly. Getting her a glass of milk from the kitchen would have been more prudent for sure.

“Hm,” she moaned, light-headed. “I fucking love that.”

Their souls shivering, their flesh longing, they took a step towards lust and ruin. Her breath had not yet touched the flickering light of his bliss. But he had given up already; ecstasy would live this night to the end.

 

**~Fin~**


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